A Tale of Four Captains
by lemondropseverus
Summary: After the Nationals are over, four captains reflect on the long journey behind them, its outcome, their teams and the challenge of moving on.


**Author's note**

Dear Reader,

First of all thank you for taking the time to read this story. I have been watching the Prince of Tennis for quite a while but, with so many amazing stories in this fandom, I must admit I have been intimidated to write anything about it. However, in a bout of inspiration I have decided to take the plunge with an introspective piece in the minds of the captains of four beloved teams set after the final match of the Nationals.

Before reading this chapter, please remember that it is written from Atobe's perspective. I don't know how you see it, (feel free to disagree!) but the impression I get is that Hyotei is closer to Seigaku than they are to Rikkai. Correspondingly, on a personal level, Atobe seems fonder of Tezuka than of either Sanada or Yukimura. As such, some mildly negative opinions about Rikkai will be voiced in this chapter. Please do not take them as my own opinions. They simply are what I perceive Atobe's thoughts to be.

Also, for those who don't know (although I don't imagine there are many of you out there), or are new to the Prince of Tennis (I always have trouble remembering the less used names when I am new to an anime/manga fandom), Atobe's given name is Keigo. As it is supposed to be an introspective piece, his given name will be used far more often than his family name. The same stands true for the other three captains from whose perspective the subsequent three chapters will be written.

I genuinely hope that you will have fun reading this.

Yours faithfully,

Lemondrop

**Summary: ** After the Nationals are over, four captains reflect on the long journey behind them, its outcome, their teams and the challenge of moving on.

**Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and its wonderful characters do not belong to me but to Takeshi Konomi. **

* * *

**A Tale of Four Captains**

**Chapter 1: The King**

"_Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm." (_Publilius Syrus)

"_Game and Match, Echizen Ryoma! Six games to four!"_

When the umpire declared Echizen the winner of the match, he found himself looking at the scene unravelling in front of his eyes with something akin to morbid curiosity. Regardless of how much he tried, he could not take his eyes away from the flurry of activity which immediately engulfed both sides of the court. On the left side there was happiness, pure undulated joy as a mass of white and blue uniforms had formed a tight circle around a small figure clad in the same Seigaku blue. They smiled, they laughed, they cried and threw him in the air and he wanted to look away, but he could not. A side of him wanted to be part of their joy. He wanted to smile with them and genuinely partake in their triumph. He would have certainly had good cause to. After all, he had been the one who had ensured that the brat would actually be there to dethrone the Emperors. Yet, he could not help but feel a pang of jealousy grow in his chest, which was utterly ridiculous, because Atobe Keigo did _not_ feel jealous of anyone. He was the King and kings do not feel jealous of ridiculously talented brats and tennis teams from second-rate schools.

Nevertheless, he felt somehow cheated. Three years before, he had promised his team the world. Five days before, he had failed to deliver a mere qualification into the National semi-finals. He had promised them a national title, recognition and prestige and he had failed not once, not twice but three times. This year was supposed to be Hyotei's year. Perhaps it would have been, if not for a series of strange chance events which had favoured the blue and white team above all others.

Keigo did not believe in luck. In fact, he firmly believed that everyone made their own luck and that hard work always triumphed over accidents of fate. Even so, he could not bring himself to quiet down the voice at the back of his mind which kept repeating that, had the brat not come to Seigaku, it would have been his team's year to shine. It is not exactly the most rational or honest thought he has ever had. In fact, it is far from it. After all, even without Echizen, Seigaku would have still had Tezuka, Fuji and the Golden Pair. And even without Seigaku in the way, would have Hyotei truly managed to defeat the Emperors? He likes to believe so. After all, the Child of God is no match for the King, their Shishido-Ohtori pair is second only to the Golden Pair and he is certain Oshitari would have found a way to beat Sanada. Yes, if not for Seigaku, it would have been Hoytei's turn. Or at least this is what he kept telling himself because the alternative means feeling inadequate, and the King may be many things but certainly inadequate was not one of them.

He was not surprised when Echizen actually managed to defeat the so-called Child of God and in the process achieved perfection. In fact, he was no longer surprised by anything the brat did. He had learned the hard way not to underestimate the first year. Echizen's style of tennis screamed "Tezuka", not in its fanciful moves, but in its resolution, assuredness and eagerness to evolve. What the current Seigaku pillar had done to get Echizen to play like that, Keigo had no idea. But it had worked spectacularly well and only those who had actually played the brat could understand that there was absolutely no shame in being defeated by him.

In that respect he felt a strange kinship with the people on the right side of the net. There the mood was much more subdued, a line of yellow uniforms standing in front of their captain, probably offering meaningless words of comfort, which he had no desire to either imagine or actually hear. He had never really liked the Child of God. In his opinion, Yukimura was someone who had everything he needed handed to him on a golden plate. Of course, that was only slightly hypocritical considering that he had been the one born in a family wealthy beyond belief. But even with his substantial wealth he had always found that the captain of Rikkai had perhaps more than he did. After all, Yukimura had a team who followed him like lost puppies, an impeccable (until now) tennis record and two national titles under his belt. To achieve all the above, his yellow-clad counterpart had done nothing but manipulate his team and promote a style of tennis which was, in Keigo's opinion, absolutely dishonourable as it preyed on the mental weakness of the opponent.

Of course, he was also known to take advantage of his opponent's weaknesses. But he did so by challenging them to a head-on fight. His match with Tezuka in the Kanto tournament might not have been his finest moment of fair-play, but in pushing the Seigaku captain to his limits he had pushed himself as well. It had been an honourable fight of endurance. On the other hand, Yukimura's style of tennis was nothing but mind games and trickery and was not aimed at trying to challenge the other tennis player but at incapacitating him. He might not have been the most honourable player, but he had never aimed to take his opponents' five senses.

"_Only destroy his shoulder and subsequent tennis career" _A small voice in the back of his mind offered menacingly, and Keigo could not help the somewhat bitter smile which makes its way to his lips.

That particular line of thought had somehow allowed him to come to the rationalization that Tezuka's team winning was the lesser of two evils. After all, Tezuka was one of the few people he had actually respected for a long time. Seeing Tezuka claim the red flag would hurt less than seeing Sanada, or, heaven forbid, Yukimura do it. To a certain extent, Tezuka deserved it more because, like himself, Tezuka had worked for it. And also, perhaps, seeing him claim the red flag would finally assuage the remnants of his treacherous conscience which kept reminding him in a small, utterly vexing voice that he had been the chief reason behind Tezuka having to work so hard to make it to the Nationals, in the first place.

Behind him he could feel his team watching him like eight hawks. He was well aware he should have probably said something to them, but found himself, surprisingly, at a loss. Should he have said that, to him, they were the best team Japan had to offer? Probably not. Somehow he suspected that his recognition was a poor substitute for an actual National title. Such words of praise would have been superfluous, not appreciated and regarded as utterly insincere. Not that they actually were. No. The King truly believed that Hyotei was the best team in Japan, and no amount of tournament losses would convince him otherwise.

For a moment, he turned his head once again to the right side of the court and could not help but wonder what Yukimura was saying to Rikkaidai. Was he apologising? Was he praising them for their valiant effort? Was he scolding them for their loss? Keigo wished he knew because perhaps whatever Yukimura was saying to his team, he could say to Hyotei and thus break the rather uncomfortable silence which was surrounding them all. Not that he needed help from plebeians to manage his team. Of course he did not! But the effeminate captain was nothing if not good with his words and considering that he hadn't been slapped by Sanada yet (not that Keigo actually believed Sanada would be capable of raising his hand to his "master") whatever he was saying to Rikkai seemed to placate them.

After their loss to Seigaku, Keigo had not said a word to his teammates. In fact, he had not even wanted to look at them for fear that he would see a fully-fledged rebellion. Instead he had quietly ushered them in the comfortable Hyotei bus, pretending to be more concerned with the state of his hair rather than the general state of the team. Later on, he had allowed them to lick their wounds and deflated egos in private before dragging them to a Yakiniku party with the very people who had defeated them. It had worked. No words about their loss had been exchanged, no strategies on how to prevent it from happening again had been offered and no lamenting had occurred. They relaxed together and had fun and, for one moment, it had felt that they had not just experienced defeat as a team, for a second time, from the same rivals.

"I'm starting the party. Let's go, everyone!" even to himself his words sounded beyond frivolous, but three days before, going to a party had brought about a semblance of normalcy. Who was to say that it would not work again? And perhaps, if enough time passed, he would know what to say to his teammates (preferably before he actually gave to reigns to Hiyoshi)

"Going at his own pace, as always!" he could hear Oshitari say as he was walking out of the arena and Keigo could not help but feel somewhat gratified that his team chose not to comment on his too-transparent avoidance technique.

* * *

Parties at the Atobe Mansion in Tokyo were generally regarded as grand affairs. Rivers of non-alcoholic champagne would flow, the best food in town would be served and the most tasteful music would play live more often than not. In the exclusive circle of Hyotei, a party at the Atobe Mansion was the place to be seen and being invited there by the King himself was regarded as the highest of honours. If you were not part of the tennis team, that is. Members of Hyotei's tennis team had long ago stopped perceiving being seen at one of their captain's events as anything even remotely impressive. And, to Keigo's woe, it seemed that the members of other tennis teams seemed to share the opinion of his own teammates. Especially Seigaku.

"Tezuka, Ore-sama demands that you come to Ore-sama's party!" Keigo all but shrieked into the cell phone he had chosen for the day only to be met with silence on the other side of the line.

It was preposterous! No one had the right to ignore his calls or his invitation to a party. Especially, the guests of honour. Especially, when on their presence depended the continued welfare of his mental state. After all, the only thing which prevented his team from delving into thoroughly unpleasant subjects of conversation were the red and blue streamers he had ordered them to tie on the trees of his mother's perfectly pruned fruit garden. Yes, he was well aware that such lowly decorations were beneath an Atobe party but he believed that commoners like Seigaku would appreciate them. Plus, they came with the added bonus of keeping his regulars occupied. If the guests of honour were not going to show up, and considering Tezuka's complete and utter reluctance they were not, the blissful silence that currently reigned in the garden would be replaced by words he definitely did not care to hear.

Testament to the direness of the situation stood the fact that, for a fleeting second, Keigo had actually considered sending Kabaji out to buy yellow streamers and calling Sanada. After all, Rikkai had managed to attain the second place in the National Tournament which, for most teams, was something to be proud of. But then he realized that throwing a party for the team from Kanagawa was not such a good idea, especially since they most definitely did not regard their performance as being a success and their fukubuchou was a Kendo champion with anger management issues. Maybe the team from Kansai? They seemed easy going enough and for sure such plebeian individuals would jump at the opportunity of being celebrated in his manor. But then again, even to him, throwing a party for the bronze medallists seemed too thin of an excuse to sustain the scrutiny of the more perceptive members of Hyotei. It would not do to be perceived as a coward, especially since he most certainly was not one. With a sigh, he once again dialled the now-familiar number of the Seigaku captain hoping for a positive response.

"Tezuka" he started, relieved that, at least this time, the other captain had actually bothered to take his call.

"Atobe" came the flat response from the other end of the line.

"Tezuka, Ore-sama requires your presence at a party thrown in your team's honour" he tried to sound as calm and gracious as possible. After all, Tezuka was a proud individual and would not react well to being ordered about. It would not also do to sound too desperate, considering that his reputation was at stake.

"You have already informed me of that fact the first five times you called" Keigo reckoned that the fact that the notoriously taciturn Tezuka had managed to string that many words into a sentence was certainly a sign that he was in a better mood than usual.

"And?" he asked not trying to sound too eager.

"The answer is still the same" Tezuka answered in that incredibly composed way of his and Keigo had to fight the urge to track the other man down and strangle him with his bare hands.

"Tezuka, it is incredibly rude to refuse to participate to a party thrown in your honour!" he screeched, composure and dignity be damned!

"And I apologize for our rudeness. However, we do prefer to celebrate privately in a more informal environment" the other captain explained although his tone didn't exactly strike Atobe as even remotely apologetic.

"But nothing could compare to a party thrown by Ore-sama!" he replied, much louder than he had intended.

"I am sorry, Atobe, but it is a matter of tradition, so to speak. Good day, Atobe!" Tezuka answered and for the sixth time during the day, Keigo was met with silence from the other side of the line.

It was at that point that Keigo considered kidnaping Tezuka. Or perhaps sending Kabaji to kidnap Tezuka. After all, where Tezuka went, Seigaku invariably followed and how hard would it truly be to overpower him and shove him into a limo? However, having to kidnap one's guests for one's party was beneath ore-sama. If Tezuka and his team of plebeians wanted to celebrate in some undisclosed dump, who what he to thwart their plans? That being said, he still had the pressing matter of distracting his regulars long enough for the day to pass in an uneventful manner. Perhaps if he called Yukimura he would be more amenable than Sanada? Surely Yukimura would be as reluctant to truly confront his team as he was and what better way to avoid dealing with one's team than a pleasant gathering among acquaintances? Then again, knowing Yukimura he had already probably convinced his entire team to either perform ritual suicide or form a healing group and talk about the childhood issues that had prevented them from winning a third national title.

"Shall I call Kenya? Or perhaps you want me to call the people from Okinawa? Maybe we should celebrate their success in the first round of the Nationals…" Oshitari's sarcasm-laden baritone resounded in the empty room and Keigo automatically turned to face his teammate. Had Oshitari been someone else, perhaps he would have responded with nothing but a chastising look.

But Oshitari was not someone else. Oshitari Yushi was one of the few people Keigo actually respected and liked. He was also one of the few who, when the mood struck, was disinclined to bow to his will or be silenced by one of the King's infamous glares. He could perfectly remember their match during the first year, he could remember the thrill it had given him and the surge of euphoria that had resulted from the discovery of having someone who almost equalled him in skill on his team. Oshitari had gained his respect that day and had kept it throughout the subsequent three years of their association.

"You know, I think more than anything they are worried about you… It's not exactly like our King to not confront the issue head on" Oshitari followed, lowering himself in one of the armchairs which overlooked the garden.

"Are you implying that Ore-sama is guilty of cowardice?" he answered in a haughty voice and raised an eyebrow in marked distaste.

"Not at all. I am merely saying that after Kanto you sat us all down in this very parlour and we discussed what had happened, why it had happened and what we could do to prevent it from happening in the future. Nothing of the sort has occurred after our last match." Oshitari responded, his eyes seeming to pierce through his façade from behind his fake glasses.

And that was exactly the crux of the matter. Hyotei's defeat at the Nationals was very different from their loss in the Kanto tournament. For one, after Kanto they had still had the hope of retribution. While it had been hardly a certainty that they would be able to play in the Nationals, it had been a probability. As the Nationals had come and gone, the last possibility of ever regaining the honour of Hyotei had also been dispelled. Furthermore, perhaps the most telling difference between the two events was the fact that during Kanto, fair-play or not, Keigo had won his match. He had not been the one to cause the defeat of his team. That dubious honour had rested on Hiyoshi's shoulders.

Atobe, by virtue of his status, had a very healthy ego. In fact some might misguidedly categorize him as a narcissist. That being said, losing a stamina battle with a twelve-year-old was had not exactly been his finest moment. It also did not help that he had to see proof of his deficiency every time he looked in the mirror and saw his cannibalized hair. He wasn't exactly ashamed of his loss to Tezuka's brat. He was, after all, an opponent worthy of Ore-sama. But he wasn't proud of it either. A discussion about his team's match at the Nationals would undoubtedly lead to a discussion about that very moment and Keigo was more than reluctant to explain why the hell he could not prevent himself from passing out in the middle of a match.

"I fail to see how such a discussion would be relevant. After all there are no more matches to be played during the season" he offered, leaning against the window pane and meeting his teammates' eyes head on.

"There are no more matches for us, Atobe. But Kabaji, Hiyoshi and Ohtori still have a full season to go next year" Oshitari offered sensibly.

"I am certain Hiyoshi will manage when the time comes. Such a discussion now would be nothing but redundant and unpleasant" He counteracted, striving to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"For you or for them?" the question was spoken in a tone which was much sharper than Yushi's usually levelled voice.

"For all parties involved" Atobe replied curtly, being quite ready for the conversation to end.

"They… we… don't blame you for losing the match against Echizen" Oshitari sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes with an expression of weary solicitude.

"Ore-sama requires neither absolution nor validation!" he answered sharply, his voice rising slightly, his grey eyes challenging Yushi to continue that particular line of thought.

"Strangely enough it seems that you do" Oshitari raised a hand before Atobe could respond "If you didn't, you would have already told Kabaji to learn to play in the rain. You would have already told Gakuto and Hiyoshi how idiotic their strategy was and you, yourself, would have already been on a tennis court improving whatever imaginary stamina issues you might perceive you have. Instead, for almost a week, we have been playing unofficial cheerleader to Seigaku."

For a moment, Keigo looked at Yushi in stunned disbelief and wondered if that was what it felt to have a vice-captain. For years he had truly believed that he did not require one and that his leadership was sufficient for Hyotei. But, considering the reality of Oshitari's words, he was starting to tentatively reconsider the veracity of that particular concept. He wondered if Sanada had ever told Yukimura he was being idiotic, or if the more sedate half of the Golden Pair had ever accused Tezuka of being a coward. Perhaps not, considering that Sanada was more likely to build a shrine to Yukimura rather than insult him and while Tezuka was known for many things, cowardice was not one of them. But then again, the relationship he had with his team was very different from that of the other captains.

Seigaku respected and admired Tezuka to the point of fanaticism. In their eyes Tezuka could do no wrong and regardless of how many matches he actually lost, he would still be their leader and they would still trust him. If tomorrow Tezuka ordered his team to throw themselves head-on into a river he was certain that all of them, including (perhaps especially) the brat, would do it, no questions asked. To a certain extent, Keigo believed that such respect was warranted if not excessive. After all, how many captains would willingly sacrifice their health for their team? On the other side of the coin, Rikkaidai worshiped the very ground Yukimura walked on. Even bedridden in a hospital and absent for most of the season, he had remained their uncontested leader. How he had managed to command such devotion from his team of dubious characters, was beyond Atobe but that was hardly the point. The point was that both Yukimura and Tezuka had rapports with their teams which were widely different from his with Hyotei.

Although it was beyond him why (perhaps envy), Keigo was well aware that the better part of the two hundred members of Hyotei's tennis club could barely stand him. Even in his group of regulars there had always been dissent and objections to his style of leadership. For three years setting himself at the top as a standard had been enough to motivate the members of his team to achieve higher levels of skill. It had done nothing to endear himself to them. In fact, if anything, it had alienated them. The problem with such an approach was that, unlike the members of other teams, his teammates did not necessarily trust him or were particularly loyal to him. They trusted his skill and, as long as he stayed at the top, they followed his queues, some more begrudgingly than others. The issue was that in light of his performance during his latest match, he was no longer at the top. Quite frankly, for those who did not know what it felt to play Echizen, he had been beaten by a first year. For his critics, it would not matter that the brat had also beaten other incredibly powerful players. Somehow, talking to his teammates from the position of the loser was not an exactly appealing idea.

"Look, I don't know what you think about the whole situation but no one believes you were to blame for the loss. On the contrary, really. Your match with Echizen truly proved that you are our King. In fact, your performance during the game went above and beyond what we had expected you to do as our captain" Oshitari offered with a lazy shrug.

"As I previously mentioned, Oshitari: Ore-sama does not require validation or forgiveness from anyone" he replied in his customary haughty tone, a slight smile creeping at the corners of his lips.

"That's certainly a relief, for we are offering neither. But you should try speaking to the regulars before Ohtori bursts into tears, Shishido does harm to himself or others, Gakuto's twitch becomes permanent and Hiyoshi starts muttering 'gekokujou' like a mantra on a permanent basis." the resident Hyotei prodigy advised and watched his captain with a rather predatory, if benevolent, expression.

Ore-sama was not a sentimental person by nature. Controlling one's emotional outbursts was a sign of quality breeding and education. As such, Keigo was rather surprised at the wave of warmth that invaded his very core when he heard the tensai's words. He certainly did not need any form of recognition from anyone, more so those he commanded, but he could not deny the appeal of the idea that his lack of guidance had had a visible impact on the members of his team.

"For almost a week we waited for an…. well, quite frankly, an explosion to occur and when it didn't happen we all kind of started to worry. Then you had us go to Seigaku's matches and their celebration party and… some of us thought you might be planning to kill Tezuka for making the brat play you in the Nationals, so we actually looked into ways of covering for you if that happened. For the record, being a potential accessory to murder is a rather daunting idea. That's when Gakuto actually started twitching…" Oshitari continued

It was then that every ounce of self-restraint Keigo possessed seemed to completely disappear and he laughed. Not a maniacal, nervous cackle but a full, rich laughter that reverberated off the wallpapered walls and filled the room with mirth.

"Ore-sama thanks you Oshitari. Tell the regulars that ore-sama will be with them momentarily" he said, his voice delighted and his grey eyes sparkling with unvoiced joy.

As he watched Oshitari take his leave, Keigo could not help but feel happier than he had been in quite a while. Perhaps he did not have a team who followed his every order without dissent out of a personal sense of loyalty. Perhaps he did not have a team who worshiped him and hung onto his every word. He did, however, have a team who was willing to help him cover up the murder of a fellow captain. And he owed it to his team to open himself up to scrutiny and allow them to dissect why they had failed to win the coveted National title. But, above all, he needed to tell his Hyotei that he was truly proud of what they had achieved together and that, regardless of what a tournament said, they were still champions.

* * *

**Author's note**

Thank you very much for reading this first instalment of this fanfiction. As the Prince of Tennis is still uncharted territory for me, I would love to hear your opinions about this first chapter and my portrayal of the wonderfully narcissistic Hyotei King. Please feel free to send any comments you might have in your reviews. Constructive criticism is more than welcomed, for it is the only way for a writer to truly become better at this elusive craft. I will do my best to reply to all your comments as soon as possible.

Next time: The Bible


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